Pokepacalypse
by cody4303
Summary: Ash is twenty five. Twelve years ago the Pokémon turned on their masters, often violently. After receiving a cryptic message from Professor Oak, Ash returns to Pallet Town with his friend Pika, looking for answers in a world gone mad.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Welcome to Hell

Ash walked down the lonesome dirt road, exactly as he had for many miles. His feet kicking up dust in tired puffs. Pika trailed behind him, ever vigilant. The road from Johto to Pallet Town had been long, and treacherous. He'd known it would be, but the message from Professor Oak had been too urgent to ignore. In his message Oak had warned Ash of a mysterious danger that awaited him. More importantly he'd said he had found a way to end the War. The war that had taken so much from so many.

Twelve years ago, when Ash was just a boy, on a cold Autumn morning the Poke'mon had revolted. The attack was as brutal as it was unexpected. The results were devastating. What remained of society clung together in walled off cities, each run with an iron fist by their Jenny.

In the distance, Ash could see a small green sign that read, "Welcome to Pallet Town". Someone had taken the time to cross out the word "town" with red spray paint, and replace it with the word "Hell".

"Welcome to Hell. Sounds about right."

"Pika."

Slung across his back, Ash carried a Kitana, given to him by a young warrior he'd first encountered in these very woods. It had saved his life many times over the years. So had his friend, Pikachu. When all the other Pokemon turned on their masters, Pika had stayed by his side. Some called Ash the last living Pokemon trainer. But he knew he had never been a trainer to Pika, he'd been a friend. Perhaps that's why he'd stayed.

"Be careful here. It looks over run."

Pika nodded solemnly in response.

The town of Pallet was now a ghost town. The empty buildings shone like the white bones of a rotting carcass in the beaming mid-day sun. As Ash approached the city he could see that it had been abandoned for a long time. At least a few months, maybe a few years.

The trip through Pallet was mostly uneventful, a sad trip through memory lane, yet in the back of his mind, Ash couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed. And in his journeys, he had learned the hard way, not to ignore such feelings.

At last, Ash came upon the ruined estate of Professor Oak. The gate, once tended with care, now stood ajar, overgrown with vines and grass.

In his encrypted video message, Professor Oak had asked, almost begged, Ash to meet him at his laboratory in Pallet Town. The laboratory Ash found himself looking at now, couldn't have been used in months. Thick layers of dust covered everything, most of the equipment and computers had been ripped apart, most likely by scavengers looking for copper.

Almost too late, Ash heard the sound of tiny feet, scuffling behind him. As he stepped to the side and turned, he felt the searing pain of a thunder attack glance off of his right shoulder, seconds before he heard the clap of the aftershock.

"Ahhh!"

As the bolt of electricity struck him, he could feel every muscle in his body turn rigid, his teeth clench shut, unnaturally hard. Ash fell to his knees. To his right he could see a wild pikachu, so thin it looked sickly, charging at him from the shadows.

But Pika was quicker, slamming the wild pikachu with a head long tackle, sending the creature sprawling.

Ash was already back up, sword drawn. He made a dash at the feral pikachu, sparks crackling around it's cheeks like lightning, preparing for another thunder attack. Before it could make the attack, Ash made a well practiced thrust with his sword, pinning the starving creature to the rotting floor boards. It's death was quick.

Ash dug a worn out cloth from his satchel, wiped the blood from his sword.

"Thanks, buddy."

"Pika."

The irony was not lost on Ash. This was the lab where he had first met Pika, all those years ago, in what seemed like a different lifetime. A memory of a dream.

Ash began to search the laboratory, not sure what he expected to find. Some clue as to where Professor Oak might have gone when the city fell. Proof that he was still alive at all.

What he found was a handwritten note, scrawled in a hurry, tucked away in a hidden drawer in the professor's desk. It read simply, "Meet me in Viridian."

Chapter 2: The Boy

He had been living in the forest for some time now. Since the city fell. With only the rising and setting of the sun as his calendar it was hard to say how long, exactly. It felt like forever.

It had been hard going at first, there were many nights when he went hungry. Out of necessity he had learned to gather berries from the forest, water from the streams, if he was lucky he would find canned food in the rubble of Pallet Town, on the days he dared venture there. He had learned to hide, when he heard anything else in the forest around him, human or otherwise, and he was good at it.

So it was with caution that he watched the stranger and his pikachu set up camp. He watched the man forage for firewood, careful not to make a noise. He watched the pikachu spark the kindling for the fire. It was dark out by the time he smelled the succulent aroma of meat cooking over an open flame. A sensation he had long forgotten. It was all he could do, not to run into the light of the fire and snatch the meat right off the flame. But his time in the forest had taught him patience. He would wait. Wait until the stranger and his dangerous pet went to sleep, then he would go through their supplies.

It wasn't until the food was done that the stranger spoke.

"You can come out, kid."

This caught the boy off guard, he had been so sure to be stealthy.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

Tentatively, the boy came out of the shadows of the surrounding forest, into the light of the fire.

"I cooked you some food. Me and Pika caught a Magikarp a while back. It's a little salty, but it's good."

His hunger finally outweighing his trepidation, the boy grabbed the food from the man.

The sounds of the forest filled the silence as all three ate their food. After finishing half of his meal the man gave the rest to the boy, then dug a whet stone and a worn blue cloth from his bag and began to sharpen his sword.

"So, what's your name?" the man asked, sounding only politely interested in the answer.

"My name is Jack."

"How long have you been living in the forest, Jack?"

"I'm not sure. Since the city fell. I was playing out here when they attacked."

At this the man put down his sword.

"Your family?"

"I don't know."

"I'm sorry."

The man resumed sharpening his sword. The pikachu had dozed off shortly after eating it's meal.

"You're Ash Ketchum, aren't you. And that's Pika."

The man nodded.

"The last Pokemon trainer."

"There are no more trainers." Ash spoke as though he were saying there were no more cookies left in the jar.

"Where are you guys going?"

"We're headed to Veridian. I'm meeting a friend there. You can come with us."

"We might find my parents there."

"You should get some sleep. We're leaving at the break of dawn." At this, Ash gently nudged Pika awake, then turned over to go to sleep.

Jack had the best sleep he'd had in a long time.

Pika stood watch, alert in the fire light.

Chapter 3: Giovanni

Giovanni Ribisi hadn't felt this uneasy since before the War. Cold sweat, pooled on his forehead. The beginnings of dread sat in his stomach like shards of ice. The incessant ringing of the alarms going off throughout the facility didn't help. His Persian paced nervously, clearly also distressed by the alarms.

"Station One isn't responding, sir." Rocket Commander Greeves tried to look calm as he spoke.

"Why not?" Giovanni growled. The panel of security cameras on the wall opposite his desk, showed footage of Rocket Guards scrambling through the halls and across the fenced in grounds, all armed to the teeth. He knew he shouldn't be nervous. What the city of Veridian knew as a Research Facility, had in fact been the primary base for Team Rocket's illegal experiments, long before the Pokemon revolted and the Jennies took control. This place was more secure than the city itself. And yet he couldn't shake this feeling.

"We sent a team to check it out, we haven't heard back from them."

"What the hell is going on?"

ooo

Station One sat on the southern perimeter of the grounds, just inside the electric fence. A plain brick building with no windows and one locked door. It was used primarily for surveillance, of the facility and key points within the city. A security team would watch the cameras in shifts of four.

The Rocket Commander that approached the door, couldn't help but feel apprehension. Since when did high command send an entire Team to check out a malfunctioning surveillance tower?

"Draw your weapons." He ordered the two Rocket Guards standing nearest to him. Dutifully they obliged. As he opened the door, the first thing that hit him was the smell. The smell of copper and of decay.

"Dear God."

It was a blood bath. All four members of the security team had been killed, violently. One of them still sitting in his chair. He wondered at how someone could have done this with out a single shot being fired. He reached for his radio.

"Command. We have a problem."

ooo

Giovanni sat at his desk, feeling more helpless than ever. An emotion he was not accustomed to.

"We should have heard from them by now."

Greeves put his hand to the earpiece he had been receiving information on. Immediately his expression went from one of vague nervousness to grim determination.

"Station One is down."

"What! How?"

"We need to move you out of here. Now."

Just then, what sounded like two small explosions, sounded in the hallway outside of Giovanni's office.

"What the fuck was that?"

Greeves drew his pistol.

Giovanni glanced at the panel of security cameras. In the hallway just outside of Giovanni's office a figure in a dark hooded cloak dropped a double barreled shotgun on the body of one of the two Rocket Grunts that guarded that hallway, smoke still drifting from the barrels. Both guards lay dead. The cloaked man, without missing a beat, drew a rapier and a silver revolver from his hip.

Giovanni's eyes widened in terror, "Greeves!"

Four shots from the revolver, in a tight pattern, exploded through the door, and through Greeve's chest. The man went down in a spray of blood and bone.

Giovanni opened the top drawer of his desk, just as the cloaked figure kicked in the door. Before he could get his fingers around the small caliber pistol he kept in that drawer, the cloaked figure shot him in the gut. The pain was excruciating. With a grunt, Giovanni doubled over, fell to the ground. Blood poured from the wound, faster than he thought possible.

The cloaked figure entered the room.

With a blood curdling snarl, Persian leapt at the attacker from the corner of the room. The cloaked man, impossibly quick on his feet, side stepped the attack. Persian landed with a crash, the cloaked man turned on his heels and fired with the revolver. Persian let out a high pitched squeal of pain.

Giovanni struggled to reach the pistol, which had fallen just out of reach.

The cloaked man calmly strode over to the wounded Persian and drove his rapier through it's heart.

"You'll pay for that, you fuck." Giovanni spat through gritted teeth.

Without a word, the cloaked man came to Giovanni, and kicked the desk pistol out of reach, then began to reload his revolver, from some extra ammo in his gun belt, dropping the spent shells on Giovanni's chest.

From the floor Giovanni could see that, under the cloak, the man was wearing an extremely weathered Team Rocket uniform, one of the older designs.

"Who are you?"

The man lowered his hood. On the right side of his face, just below the hairline, was a horrific scar, it looked like a burn, maybe acid.

"James?"

The man aimed the gun at Giovanni's head.

"This is for Jesse."

James felt cold satisfaction as he pulled the trigger.

Chapter 4: Jesse and James

James made his way through the forest, the rising sun, lighting his way. Slipping back out of the compound had been easy. He knew the secret passages of that place like the back of his hand. He'd gotten lost in them often enough when he had first started his career with Team Rocket.

The cave he had been sleeping in for the past couple of nights was nestled against a hill, a few miles east of Viridian and the Rocket research facility.

To his left, James heard the grass move. With lightning speed and precision, he drew his pistol and fired. James grabbed the Rattatat by it's tail and slung its carcass over his shoulder. It would make a nice meal, and he knew she would be hungry when he returned.

The cave was empty, except for a crude fire pit, a bag of supplies and a human skull resting on a rock near the fire pit.

"I did it. I was too quick for them. It was easy."

Silence greeted him as he dropped the dead Ratattat on the cave floor, drew his knife and began to butcher the animal.

"And look, I brought us some food."

She continued to watch in silence as James salted the extra meat so it would keep for later, lit the fire and began to cook their dinner.

"So, you're ignoring me." James felt the rage building quietly, slowing his thoughts, "I thought you'd be happy. I did it for you."

The skull stared at the wall, the light of the fire casting flickering shadows across it's bleached white smile.

"You know what I want."

James lowered his head. He'd known this was coming.

"Pikachu."

Chapter 5: Viridian

Part 1:

Jenny's Trike, a three-wheeled Police vehicle specifically designed for both urban and off-road criminal apprehension, clambered down the uneven streets of Viridian. Around noon the clouds had rolled in from the east, blotting out the sun and covering the already gloomy city in a light rain.

"The City of Viridian is officially on lock down. In light of the recent murders, a curfew has been enacted. Anyone caught on the streets after eleven will be jailed and questioned." Jenny spoke into a megaphone built into the Trike, originally for riot dispersal. Her voice echoed up and down the mostly empty streets. A passerby with a shaved head and a faded blue tattoo on his neck flipped her off as she drove by.

"Be on the lookout for suspicious strangers." As she spoke, she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, a man with a red hat sprinting out of the forest for the Wall. In his arms he carried young boy. The boy looked injured.

"Speak of the Devil." Jenny muttered to herself as she flipped on her sirens and took off for the gate.

"Open her up." Jenny called out to the man watching the gate, a civil employee named Joseph.

With the push of a button, the gate, a rusted hunk of metal, creaked open.

The man had been at a dead sprint, but the burden of carrying the boy had slowed him, and he still had about one hundred yards to go before he got to the gate.

"He's hurt. He needs a hospital." The man called out as soon as Jenny was within shouting distance.

Jenny pulled over.

"Put him in the side car."

The man, with great care not to hurt the boy, followed instruction. The boy was soaked in blood. It looked like a stomach wound. The man began to climb on the back of the bike. Jenny's hand instinctively went to her side arm.

"Not you. I'll take the boy for medical care. No one else is allowed in."

"I'm not leaving him."

"Our Gym Leader was murdered last night. This City is on lock down."

"I'm all he has."

"We don't have time for this. Get on."

Part 2:

The hospital was relatively clean. Ash had received medical care in much worse conditions on the road. Jack was sedated, a red liquid, probably blood, fed into his arm via an I.V.

"So. What happened?" Jenny's tone didn't sound accusatory. That was something.

"We were ambushed. Bandits."

"How did you escape?"

"Only one of them had a gun. I took off his arm with the Kitana. But not before he got off one shot."

"Did you keep the gun?"

Ash nodded.

"I'm going to have to take it. Fire arms are not permitted in city limits. You can pick it up at the police station when you leave." Jenny hesitated before adding, "You can keep the sword."

Ash, carefully, retrieved the gun, a rusted six shooter, from his satchel and handed it to Jenny.

"Do you have any identification?"

Ash handed her his Pokedex.

"Pokedex of Ash Ketchum. Unit number 110121..."

"Ash. I think I remember you. You aren't a troublemaker are you?"

"No, mam."

Jenny considered this for a moment.

"I believe you." Jenny handed him his Pokedex, "They tell me the boy will be alright. They want to keep him here for a couple of days. When he's healed, I want you out of town. It's nothing personal."

Without waiting for a response, Jenny stood and left.

On his way out, Ash stopped at the front desk. Behind the desk sat a pleasant middle aged woman.

"Know a nice place to stay for the night?"

"I wouldn't call it nice, but there is a little Inn about four blocks north of here. Just follow Main street."

As he left the hospital and stepped out onto the street Ash noticed Viridian seemed to come alive, just a little bit, after the sun went down. People walked the streets in groups of two or three, illuminated by the neon signs of the city's many bars. No one traveled alone. No one except Ash.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 6: Butch and Cassidy

Part 1

The "Inn" was a three story office building on the edge of town that had been converted into rooms. A place for travelers and vagrants to bed down for the night. Not run down like a lot of buildings he had passed on his walk through the heart of downtown Veridian, but a dump nonetheless. After paying a modest fee to a grumpy desk clerk, Ash was given a key to a room at the end of the hall.

Inside the room, Ash set his supply bag on the ground and opened the flap. Pika tumbled out with an exhausted sigh. Ash unhooked his kitana and leaned it against the bed, before dropping onto the mattress. He was tired to his bones. He had had to run the kid, Jack was his name, all the way into town from the campsite. A three mile journey, at least. But he knew sleep wasn't an option. Something was troubling him. He had seen to the boy get shot, had heard his cries as he ran him in the rain through the woods, only half way sure he was going the right way. But that wasn't what kept him from sleeping. He couldn't get a grasp on it. It stood on the edges, watching him, waiting for the moment to strike. He thought about how professor Oak had looked in his last video message. Gaunt, like he hadn't slept in a week, and distracted. And genuinely terrified, though he tried to hide it.

With a groan, Ash stood up from the bed and began to rummage around in the satchel. After a moment he produced two biscuits, and tossed them to Pika.

"There's two more biscuits in there. They are all yours. I'm going to get a drink."

Ash stopped to collect his sword. Electricity crackled across Pika's cheeks, a definite sign of aggression.

"Sorry, buddy. You can't come. You know what would happen if they saw you."

"Pika."

"I'll bring you back a beer."

The electricity ceased, and Pika, apparently satisfied, resumed devouring the biscuits Ash had left.

Ash locked the door behind him.

Part 2

Butch inspected the body lying on the table in front of him. A sheet was pulled up to the man's chest, just past his nipples. Course chest hair curled over it in patches. The man had a hole just below his left eye the size of a dime. The exit wound was much bigger, about the size of a grapefruit. They were still finding pieces of skull in the carpet in his office.

"That's him all right. Fuck, this is bad."

Butch was nervous. And he could tell Cassidy knew he was nervous. And that killed him.

"Don't worry. The boss man will be here any minute. That's the beauty of this job. You needn't worry. You needn't think. You must only do."

Butch thought Cassidy was being too cool about all of this. Like she was compensating for something. Or, maybe he was imagining it. He could never tell for sure with her. After all this time, he still couldn't read her. And it was part of his job to read people. He prided himself on his ability to read people.

"The boss man is late." Butch glanced at his watch.

"He's a busy man, Butch. You know that. Are you really that upset?"

"Why would he fly in for a meeting in person? Why not over the phone?"

"He's in town to bury the cat."

"You're kidding."

Just then the swing doors burst open. The Boss strode in, his stride quick and sure. He knew exactly where he was going and you had better hope you were not in the way.

"How many dead?" The Boss was not a man to waste time with the formalities.

"Eight dead." Cassidy hesitated ever so slightly before adding, "Nine including the cat."

The boss reached into the coat pocket of his white silk jacket and withdrew a cigar.

"They will pay for that." He spoke as he lit the cigar with a match. Butch, considered mentioning the no smoking policy in the Police building. But thought better of it.

"What do we do now?" Butch fought to keep the growing hysteria out of his voice.

"Now. You and Cassidy find whoever did this. Go through the cameras. All of it. Then we kill him. Slow."

"But what about him?" Butch indicated the body on the table. "We needed him. Does this ruin the plan?"

The Boss considered this, then slowly reached down and put out his cigar on the man's chest. The smell of burnt hair filled the room. Butch looked away in disgust. And hated himself for it. It was just the reaction that fucker had been looking for.

"He was always expendable. Nothing is changed."

The boss turned to Cassidy, "I'll be in town for a couple of days. Taking care of some of the fallout from this mess. No one is to try to reach me by phone. All messages to me are going to be hand delivered."

As he turned to leave he paused at the door, "There's no room for failure here. This assignment will make you. Or it will break you. There is no third option."

Part 3

The bar was called the Lucky Magikarp, and it was a shithole. Ash sat at the bar, sipping on cheap whiskey. Behind him the bar's only other patrons, a trio of leather clad biker thugs, played a rowdy game of billiards.

Ash finished his whiskey.

A man came in off the street, he wore a gray hat, the kind given to mail carriers, back when there had been a need for mail carriers, and a thick gray mustache. The man grunted and heaved as he moved, as though fighting with an old injury. Of all the empty chairs in the bar, he chose the one right next to Ash.

"Whiskey!" called out the man. More of an observation than a question. The bar tender, a sour old man with a craggy face and a receding gray hairline, poured the man a glass.

Ash made eye contact with the bar tender, as he handed the man his whiskey.

"I'll have a beer." Silently, the bar tender obliged.

"Can I ask you something?"

The bartender gave Ash a look that said, "I know you're going to ask anyway. So just fucking spit it out."

"I'm looking for Professor Oak. I was told I could find him in Veridian."

"Never heard of him."

Ash produced a twenty from his wallet and placed it on the bar. The bartender glanced at Ash before taking the money and stuffing it in his pocket. He indicated for Ash to lean in for the answer.

"Go fuck yourself."

At this the man to Ash's right exploded with laughter. A great rolling laugh, the word that came to Ash's mind was "jolly".

"The locals aren't too friendly to outsiders are they?"

"I guess not."

"Haha. I've been dealing with some of that myself. The name's Gardevoir. Jamison Gardevoir."

"Nice to meet you."

"You can't blame them though. For being untrusting that is. What with all the murders the other night. Gym leader shot dead in his own office."

"I'd heard about that. Seems to be the way of the World these days. I guess I don't have to tell you that."

This comment seemed to genuinely confuse the old man. It was a moment before his hand went to his face and recognition settled in.

"You mean my scar. It's bad isn't it? I don't even remember it's there most days. My poke'mon turned on me. First day of the Revolution."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Ash finished his drink. Then stood to leave. "It was nice meeting you."

"Hold on, now. I need someone to drink with. C'mon look at this place. Stay for one drink. I'm buying."

Gardevoir seemed harmless enough to Ash, a little drunk, but it was a happy drunk. And he had just been ripped off for twenty dollars. A free drink didn't sound so bad.

Three rounds later, the old man played his cards.

"So you're looking for professor Oak."

Ash's attention focused. He couldn't even remember what he had been thinking about the second before.

"I am."

"I know where he is staying. I can take you to him."

"Now?"

"Now. The others will tell you he's in the research facility on the edge of town. But I know where he really is. And this is the only time you'll likely be able to get him. We'll have to leave right now." Jamison glanced at his watch.

"I guess we'd better get going then."

"That's the spirit, m'boy!"

Jamison payed the bill. Ash, with some difficulty, slung his sword over his shoulder and the duo wandered out into the streets.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 4

Cassidy rewound the video, for the hundredth time in the past three hours. It was truly remarkable. Over a thousand hours of surveillance footage, from cameras throughout the compound, around the city, even some hidden in false branches in trees in the surrounding forest and the computer had turned up only five minutes of tape in which the shooter was visible to the cameras. And his back was to them the entire time. It was the five minutes before the deaths of the two men that had guarded the hallway to Giovanni's office.

"He knows where the cameras are."

"Obviously."

Cassidy rolled her eyes.

"Look at the way he sits there and waits for the shift to change. Then he just gets up and shoots them. It's unnerving. This had to be timed perfectly."

"What about that shotgun he dropped in the hallway?"

"Clean of fingerprints. It's standard issue Team Rocket. An older model though. They stopped using them about ten years ago."

"So we've got nothing."

"Nothing much. He's either ex-Team Rocket or current. I'm thinking ex considering the old shotgun."

Butch grabbed his jacket from the table.

"I'll head downtown. Ask around."

"Sounds good. I think I'm gonna stay here and go through some of this footage by hand. See if the computer missed anything."

Butch put on his jacket and fished his cigarettes out of an inside pocket.

"Butch. Be careful. This guy is a real pro."

The sincerity in her voice caught him off guard. For an instant he wasn't sure how to respond.

"I will."

OOOOOOOOOOOO

Ash had been following the man, Jamison Gerre-something, for some time now. And he was beginning to realize he had made a mistake. Or perhaps a few. He had had too much to drink, that much was becoming apparent. His arms and legs seemed heavier. His thoughts cloudy. The rain clouds had returned some time in the night, bringing with them a light drizzle.

Jamison seemed to be leading him into the forest. Their path had been long and meandering. Ash had begun to suspect the old man didn't remember where he was supposed to be going in the first place. Ash struggled to remember the very same thing.

"We are going to see professor Oak?"

The idea had formulated in Ash's mind as a statement. An affirmation. But it had come out as a question.

"That's right, Ash. We are going to see professor Oak."

Jamison's limp, which had been rather pronounced at the bar, seemed to have vanished. Or had he only imagined the limp? He certainly didn't remember telling the man his name. Ash's mind darted to Pikachu.

"Oh shit. I need to get back to my room."

"Why? Need to feed your pet?"

They had come to a clearing at the edge of the city, where the forest began. About a half mile from downtown and a mile from the southern most wall.

"What? No. It's just that it's getting late."

"Don't worry. It won't matter soon."

"It won't?"

Jamison stopped in his tracks. Without turning around, he drew a silver dagger from a holster hidden under his jacket.

"You should prepare for trouble."

"What did you say?"

He drew a second silver dagger.

"Make it double."

Ash drew his sword. It's cold weight had always been a comfort in his hands.

"James?"

James turned and made a mad charge at Ash. Ash barely had time to deflect the attack and counter with a wild swing of his own, that missed by about six inches.

"I thought you were dead."

James came back at Ash with another charge. This time Ash was prepared. He took a step forward as he came down with a heavy over head swing. James ducked to the side, without losing his momentum and used all of his force to drive the dagger in his right hand, deep into the back of Ash's right leg with a quick jab, then hopped out of range of Ash's sword. James' movements were fluid and unpredictable, like those of a dancer.

The pain was intense. Worse than anything Ash had ever felt before. James' dagger had missed the intended target, his femoral artery, but had chipped the bone. Ash let out a cry of pain and fell to his knees.

James paused. He wasn't even out of breath. James had a demented look in his eye. Ash saw no trace of the Jamison character he had been playing all night.

"Where are you keeping Pikachu? He must be close."

Ash took a half hearted swing at James, more to keep him back, than to actually hit him.

"You won't tell me?"

With a tremendous effort, Ash stood from the ground and made another heavy swing at James, screaming the entire time. James easily batted the attack away with one of the daggers, then kicked Ash, hard, in the gut.

The kick knocked all of the wind out of Ash's lungs. He fell to the ground, gasping for air.

"No matter. I'll find him easily enough." Then, as an afterthought. "We always knew he was special."

James walked over and kicked the sword out of reach.

"You know. I thought you'd be more of a challenge. With Giovanni, I planned and plotted for weeks. But honestly I was more nervous about this fight. And look at you."

Ash had begun to catch his breath. He could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Is that why you drugged me?"

James looked offended. In the rain, the fake mustache he had been wearing had begun to slip out of place. James wiped it from his face and dropped it on the ground.

"It is. You're right. It's not fair. But that's life."

James approached Ash.

"I'm sorry it had to end like this."

"Hey! Stop. Freeze."

James stopped. Neither of them had seen the man approach.

"I've got a gun aimed at your back. I'm with the police. Drop the knives."

Butch recognized the one on the ground. His name was Ash. He was known as a sword fighter. And this other man had laid him out like it was nothing.

"I said drop it."

Without warning, the man spun around and hurled one of the daggers. The blade made a dull thud, as it hit. Butch didn't feel the pain at first. He thought the man had missed. That the handle had hit him instead of the blade.

Then the man turned and sprinted into the forest. Butch took his time and aimed down the sights, then squeezed the trigger.

He felt something warm and sticky spreading quickly. He looked down and saw that the blade of the knife was sticking half way out of his chest. That thud had been the sound of the blade slamming through his right pectoral muscle and into his shoulder bone. He felt his vision blurring. He was losing a lot of blood. He had seen the man's face for a second when he had turned to throw the knife. It was familiar.

The police sirens sounded distant. Butch wondered idly if they would make it in time. Before he bled out.

He sat down. He felt tired. Sleep over took him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 7: The Professor

Butch opened his eyes. The pain in his chest was a dull one. Until he tried to move. Then it was like shards of glass. Officer Jenny sat on a chair near his bed. It seemed to Butch as though she had been waiting for him to awaken for some time. And not patiently. His left hand, his good hand, was handcuffed to the bed. HIs right arm was in a sling.

Last night was a blur. Like watching a movie without the sound.

"You're awake."

"What is going on?"

"I was hoping you could answer that."

"Where am I?"

"You are in the hospital. You were brought here when my men found you bleeding out in a field on the edge of town last night."

"Why am I in hand cuffs? Clearly I am the victim here."

"You are in handcuffs, because you had an unregistered fire arm in your possession. And because you were out after curfew."

Butch had always hated dealing with the Jennies. Even before they had seized power in the aftermath of the Revolution, they had been arrogant. And now they had the authority to back it up. They were opportunists. Sick with power.

"This is a mistake. I am a Special Detective from Saffron. I fired my weapon while trying to apprehend a criminal we've been trailing. Did you find his body? I hit him. I'm sure of it."

"You were alone when we found you."

"That's impossible."

"It's irrelevant. You snuck a fire arm into my city and then had the balls to discharge that firearm after curfew. A law man like yourself should know better."

"Are you serious? I tell you there's an armed mad man in the city and that's what you are concerned about?"

"Right now you are looking at eight months jail time."

"Unbelievable. This is bullshit."

"I know you are with the Secret Police, Butch. And I know who really runs the Police in Saffron."

Jenny let this statement linger in the air for a moment. Taking small pleasure in Butch's lack of a response before continuing.

"You and your partner came into town three days ago. The day before our Gym Leader was murdered. Spending most of your time at the labs where the murders took place. Neither of you registered a firearm. And yet we find you on the edge of town with a gun in your hand and a knife in your chest."

Butch could not remember a time when he felt this powerless. One arm in a sling, the other chained to a hospital bed. His head was a mess. He was at a disadvantage and Jenny was capitalizing.

"So you think I shot Giovanni."

"You had the opportunity. We all know Giovanni wasn't a saint. It's known that he had some business ties to Saffron. I wouldn't put it past Sabrina to send a couple of her Secret Police lackeys to do a hit. The knife to the chest could be retaliation from Giovanni's men."

"You are completely insane. You can't prove any of this. Because none of it happened."

Jenny's eyes glinted.

Butch could see he had gotten through to her. He could see the anger flaring up beneath the thin veil of professional courtesy. It was a bittersweet feeling.

There was a knock at the door. Butch felt relief wash over him. Cassidy was here. She would sort out this whole mess.

Cassidy glanced at Butch as she crossed the room to shake Officer Jenny's hand. Butch wasn't sure what the look meant exactly, but it probably had something to do with him keeping his mouth shut.

"Officer Jenny. I'm Special Detective Cassidy. You've met Butch, obviously."

"I have. He's a real charmer."

"You're a busy woman. So am I. I'm not going to waste your time. I have been made aware of the mixup regarding our police fire arms. I can assure you it was nothing more than a filing error. I have already submitted the proper paperwork. I brought copies." Cassidy produced a packet of papers, and handed them to Jenny. "Now. Regarding the charges you've made about curfew. I can only assume those were filed before it was made known that Butch is an Officer of the Law in town on official business."

"You are right. Curfew laws wouldn't apply in this situation. But I can't ignore the fact that he fired an unregistered firearm in city limits."

"That's a misdemeanor. And as I've explained was the result of a mixup with the paperwork. We both know you aren't going to waste time taking this to trial."

"We are comparing the shell we found with your partner to the ones we found with Giovanni's body right now."

"I encourage you to do so. But since you have no legal reason to keep my partner locked up here and the doctor has cleared him to go home. We are going to take our leave. We have a case after all."

Jenny was beat and she knew. She was not accustomed to defeat, but she was not a sore loser. She unclasped the key ring from her hip and undid the cuffs around Butch's wrist.

"You can pick up your weapon at the Police Station. It's in evidence."

Cassidy nodded courteously. Jenny could see the contempt in Butch's eyes as he stood from the bed and ambled towards the door.

"This is my town, Detectives. You aren't in Saffron anymore."

Butch flashed Jenny a mocking smile as the two left the room.

Outside the air was crisp, it was still pretty early in the day. Butch lit a cigarette as they walked to the Police Station.

"Can you believe that fucking Jenny?"

"What the hell were you thinking? We got lucky. She could have held you indefinitely, never even had a trial."

"I know that."

Cassidy stopped walking, grabbed Butch by his hands and kissed him on the mouth.

"Thanks for saving me Cass. I thought I was done."

"I'm just glad you are okay. So what happened? Who did this to you?"

Butch flicked his cigarette. The images of the night before were coming clearer to him.

"The same man that we've been looking for. I saw his face. And I'm pretty sure I shot him."

"You're sure it's the one we are looking for?"

"The right side of his face was disfigured. A scar. But I'm sure it was him."

"So. Who was it?"

"A ghost."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Ash had been gathering information about his whereabouts all morning. He had woken as the sun rose. He could tell because there was a window. He was pretty sure he was on the second story of whatever building he was in. From the waist up he was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing the night before. Someone had taken the pants he had been wearing, now he was wearing loose fitting shorts. Someone, presumably the same person who had taken his pants, had treated and dressed his leg wound. He was in a bed. The bed was comfortable. There was a terrible throbbing pain in his leg. Like some one was dragging a dull saw blade across the bone. Slowly. Steadily.

He passed out.

Sometime later he regained consciousness. Now the sun wasn't visible through the window. It was getting dark. Whether it was later that same day or a week later, he had no idea. There were books on shelves. A glass of water rested on a nightstand near the bed. Ash took it and drank it in one painful, desperate gulp. It was still chilled.

Ash steeled himself for what he must do. His surroundings seemed hospitable enough, but he knew, if he was in enemy hands, his best bet would be surprise. His captors probably assumed he was still unconscious. And if that was the case, he might be able to slip out.

Ash swung his legs over the side of the bed. Took three quick breaths, then stood. The pain was nearly intolerable. Even worse than when he had received the wound in the first place. At least then, his adrenaline had been pumping. But he didn't scream.

He made his way to the door, tried the handle. It wasn't locked. He pushed past, into the hallway. The hallway was bordered by a railing. He was indeed on the second floor.

Ash couldn't believe his eyes. He must still be passed out. In the grips of a fever dream. In the den of this house, sitting on a plump leather chair, was Professor Oak. He was reading a book.

"Professor? Is that you?"

Oak, looked up from his book. A look of confusion flashed across the old man's face.

"Ah. And what is your name?"

"It's me. Ash. Ketchum."

The front door opened. A young man with chiseled features and thick brown hair entered the room.

"Grandpa. You are awake."

Oak turned his head to the newcomer. Ash recognized the man immediately as his old friend and rival, Gary Oak.

"Errm. What is your name again?"

Oak's tone was apologetic. Tinged with nervousness.

"It's me grandpa. Let's go lay down." Gary led him back to his room. When he returned, he looked up at Ash.

"Ash. You shouldn't be standing on that leg. If you lay back down, I'll meet you up there. You probably have some questions for me."


End file.
